


Bacon Cheeseburger, No Tomato

by ssswampert



Series: 24 Hours [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssswampert/pseuds/ssswampert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re out late,” Qrow says moments later, setting a steaming mug and a handful of cream cups in front of him. James merely drags the mug of coffee closer to himself and sips at it.</p>
<p>“Moving,” he finds himself saying. “Just pulled into town.”</p>
<p>(24-Hour Diner AU, part one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bacon Cheeseburger, No Tomato

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of one-shots about a 24-hour diner. Yes, it will be IronQrow ~~and Arkos~~ because I have no self control--I mean, I have no shame--I mean, they're otp. You know.

It’s 2 AM on a Thursday--now Friday--when James pulls into the parking lot of a diner with a dimming sign.  _ THE NEST _ . The last T flickers every now and again, rendering it briefly  _ THE NES _ . Hopefully this place was as good as the reviews on its website (and Penny, when she came to visit an online friend of hers) claimed; he’d never been to this part of the country before, and his new job’s weird hours meant he might be here a lot.

Carefully, he pulls his truck along the side of the building, right next to the junky red car with bird decals emblazoned on the back window. He sits in the truck in the quiet for a few moments, relishing briefly--guiltily--in that Penny had flown out here a week before he had driven the rented U-Haul and stayed with her friend until he could get their things moved into the apartment they were renting.

When he can peel himself out of the truck, he does and heads for the door. When he pushes himself into the diner, the man behind the counter calls out a, “Hey! You’re a new face,” and sets out a napkin and silverware at the lower counter in front of him. Two teenagers, one redhead and one blond, sit in a booth nearby.

James sits where he placed out the silverware. Behind-The-Counter strolls over to the teenagers and picks up a cup and a mug. He refills the mug with coffee and sets it in front of the redhead, and then sticks the cup in the sink and picks up a mug. He fills the new mug with coffee and sets it in front of the blond. “You’re gonna need this to finish that homework, bud,” he says, when the blond starts to protest. The redhead giggles, and the blond lets his head fall with a  _ whump _ against the textbook on the table.

“Hi,” Behind-The-Counter says, drawing James’ attention to him. “Can I get you anything?” He has a pen in one hand and a ticket book in the other. His nametag reads  _ QROW _ in thickly markered letters.

“Just coffee for now, thank you,” James says, finally dropping his eyes to look at the laminated menu in front of him.

“You’re out late,” Qrow says moments later, setting a steaming mug and a handful of cream cups in front of him. James merely drags the mug of coffee closer to himself and sips at it.

“Moving,” he finds himself saying. “Just pulled into town.”

“Great. You wouldn’t happen to be James Ironwood, would you?” Qrow asks.

James eyes him over the rim of the mug, wary. “Why do you ask?”

“My niece is attached at the hip to a gal who talks nonstop about Father this, Father that. Asked her dad’s name. Wondering if you might be him.” Qrow sticks his pen between his teeth and leans his hip against the counter. “Penny said he’d be in town Thursday or Friday and here we are, two in the damn morning on Friday, you just pullin’ into town with a U-Haul. I ain’t unobservant.”

James sets his coffee down with a heavier thump than he meant to, sloshing coffee onto the countertop. “I’m guessing your niece is ...Ruby?” James hazards a guess at her name. He’s sure Penny’s said it before.

“Yup.” Qrow pops the P, snagging a towel from a bucket and motioning for James to lift his mug again. James complies, and Qrow mops up the spill. “That’s my gal. One of ‘em, anyways.” He drops the towel back into the bucket with a  _ plop _ and shoves the brim of his cap up with his thumb, then he’s turning and snagging the pot of coffee from the burner and topping off James’ mug.

“You want warmed up, Terrible Twosome?” he calls over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, the red head lifts a thumbs up. The blond merely lifts a hand. “Got’cha covered, Blondie.”

“Don’t call me that,” the blond whines. “It’s so… girly. Plus people call  _ Yang _ Blondie.”

“Right.” Qrow steps away from James. “Won’t do it again. Sorry, kiddo.” James hears the clatter of more cream cups, and then the same clatter a second time, and then the sound of a small fridge being kicked shut.

Then the pot is back on the coffee maker, nearly empty, and Qrow is setting up the giant machine to brew more. Suddenly aware he’s been watching Qrow work, James studies the menu, gloved hand clenched tight around the handle of his mug.

“Hungry?” Qrow asks him. “I bet you can’t decide what to get.” He looks at the teenagers in the booth. “Hey, Jaune,” he calls. “Wake up, buddy boy. What would you get if it was your first time here?”

The blond teenager sits up. The pages of his textbook stick to his face, and with a giggle hidden behind one hand, the redhead peels them off his cheek. “Whussat?” he slurs. The redhead repeats Qrow’s question. “I’unno, I just get whatever Pyrrha gets,” he says, rubbing at his eyes.

“...Right,” Qrow says, shifting to lean on the counter. “She gets this.” He points at a picture on the menu. “When Penny was in here yesterday with Yang and Ruby, she got this.” He points at another picture. James raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll get that, then. Penny’s a very picky eater. If she likes something here I should try it,” he rationalizes.

“You ain’t gotta justify anything to me, Jimmy,” Qrow replies, straightening up and scribbling on his ticket book. Then he sticks his pen between his teeth and turns away to grab the now-full pot of coffee. “More?” he asks around his pen. James slides his mug across the counter, and Qrow fills him up.

“Thank you,” James says, pulling his mug back.

“No prob,” Qrow replies, twisting away to put the pot back and step over to the two teenagers. “You guys good?” The redhead nods. “Cool. Hey, I’m about to start cookin’ and I don’t wanna do it in the quiet. Get the jukebox going.” He fishes a dollar out of his pocket and hands it over the divide.

Jaune takes it and looks from the jukebox in the corner and back to Qrow, and James can see the grin spreading over his face. “You got it, Mr. Qrow,” he says, sliding out of his seat.

“If you queue the same song four times in a row again I’m gonna put salt in your coffee,” Qrow calls. Jaune’s laugh echoes across the diner.

“Which ones do you want then?” Jaune calls back, feeding the dollar into the machine.

Qrow washes his hands, and pulls on plastic gloves. “Hmm, gimme… Back in Black, Hot for Teacher, Changes, and you pick the last one.”

“Got it!” Jaune says. James watches him scroll through the music list.

“Hey, Jim,” Qrow pulls James’ attention back to him. Strains of guitar fill the tiny diner. “You want your food cooked exactly how I did Penny’s? Same stuff in your hashbrowns, same meat doneness, same toppings on the burger?”

“It’s James. Yes, please,” James replies. Qrow points a finger at him, clicks his tongue, and winks.

“Gotcha,” he says. He starts to sing along to the music when the words kick in, pulling the ingredients he needs from the fridge and bumping it shut with his hip. Meat sizzling on the grilltop accompanies his singing not long after. 

The smell of bacon frying reminds James just how hungry he is. Qrow swings his hips and shimmies his shoulders and bobs his head and sings loudly, voice a pleasant gravel, as he cooks. The first song fades into the second, and suddenly Qrow is air drumming with two spatulas and belting lyrics. He pauses to flip the burger over and check on the bacon, and then as he plates the sandwich.

Qrow sings along to the third song as he cleans the grill and disposes of his gloves, and then as the fourth song gears up, he stops and turns to Jaune. “Seriously?  _ This _ song?” he asks on a laugh.

Jaune nods enthusiastically. “Keeps me awake ‘cuz I dance to it!” he says, puffing his chest out. Something the redhead says that James doesn’t catch make Jaune’s ears go red.

“Here,” Qrow says, sliding the plate onto the counter in front of James. “One bacon cheeseburger, no tomato, and plain ol’ hashbrowns.”

“Thank you,” James says. Qrow winks again, and James distracts himself from the flush creeping up his neck to tuck in to his food.

“How’s that homework comin’, Amazon?” He shifts his attention to the teenagers again.

“I think we’re almost done,” the redhead says. “Jaune is just… having a little trouble!” Qrow hums.

“What’cha workin’ on? Maybe I can help.” He leans on the divide and peers over at the textbooks on the table. “Yuck.”

“Yeah.” Jaune drops his head to the table. “Yuck,” he repeats, dejected.

Then Qrow’s attention is back on him. “You a numbers guy?” he asks. James nods. “Want mine, then?” He smirks briefly, and James flushes. “Nah, I’m kidding. It’s inappropriate of me to get flirty at work. Can you help him?”

“What is he working on?” James asks, setting his fork down.

“Precal,” Jaune replies, voice cracking in the middle. He clears his throat. “Precal,” he says again.

“Bring it over here.” James scoots his plate to the side, and Qrow nabs the coffee pot to refill his mug. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The blond teenager drops his textbook and stack of loose leaf papers onto the counter and slides into the chair next to James. “I’m just… having a lot of trouble with this.” He motions to a problem where scratchwork has been crossed out and scribbled over several times. Two different sets of handwriting pepper the page.

“What’s the question?” James asks, digging in his jacket pocket. He pushes reading glasses onto his nose and peers through them at the textbook.  _ Evaluate the integral of 6y^ _ _ 3 _ _ e^ _ _ y _ _ dy _ . “Hm,” he says.

“I just  _ don’t get it _ ,” Jaune whines, thunking the side of his fist against his forehead.

“No worries,” James replies gently. “I had to explain this to my daughter recently.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket and motions for a fresh piece paper. When Jaune slides it over, James jots down the problem. “You know the formula. The integral of u times dv is equal to u times v minus the integral of v times du.” He writes that down as well, at the head of the paper above the problem.

Jaune watches, despondent.

“So in the case of integral 6y^ 3 e^ y dy, u equals 6y 3 and dv equals e^ y dy.” James writes that down underneath the problem. “We have to find du and v, right?” He circles them in the formula. Jaune nods. “Since du is just the derivative of u, if u is 6y^ 3 then du is 18y^ 2 dy.”

James slides the paper back over to Jaune. Jaune’s pencil hovers over the paper. James repeats himself, slower. “Write that down,” he instructs. Jaune does. “Good! Oh, you cannot forget dy, or the entire problem doesn’t work.” Jaune nods again, writes that down under the formula, then underlines it twice.

“Now we have to find v,” James says, pointing with his pen. 

Jaune blinks a few times. “...How do I do that,” he says.

“I’m getting there,” James responds. “Since dv is the derivative of v, we have to find the antiderivative of dv to find v.” Jaune’s face goes blank. “Okay,” James says. “Say you have function  _ capital F _ and you find the derivative of  _ capital F _ . That’s  _ lowercase f. _ ” He pulls a napkin from the holder and scribbles this down. “ _ Capital F _ is the antiderivative of  _ lowercase f _ . In this case it doesn’t necessarily matter because the derivative of e y is always e y . The dy is just a stand in for whatever the derivative of y is because of something called the chain rule--but that doesn’t matter for this problem in front of us because y is a single variable and its derivative is 1.”

James hears Qrow talking to the redhead to his right. “Hey, Pyrrha,” he says. “If I show you how to open them  _ and _ give you a dollar, will you refill the napkin holders for me?”

“I suppose so. But you don’t need to give me the dollar,” Pyrrha replies. James watches Jaune’s eyes stray to the other two in the diner and linger on the redhead.

“Are you with me, Jaune?” James asks. Jaune’s eyes snap back to the textbook and the tips of his ears flush red.

“Yessir,” Jaune replies automatically. “Sorry.”

James repeats the last thing he said about the problem on the paper, and points out where he wrote it down. Jaune nods.

Qrow and Pyrrha chat while James explains the rest of this problem to Jaune, and then another, and then another. Each step they finish, James asks Jaune what to do next, and the hesitation between James’ prodding and Jaune’s replies lessen with each problem.

By the time they reach the last one, Jaune is looking brighter. “I think I get it,” he says.

“Excellent,” James says. “Do you want to try this one on your own?”

As Jaune starts the problem, James’ phone rings. He excuses himself and steps outside to answer.

“ _ Father! _ ” Penny’s voice rings through. “ _ I was about to go to bed _ ,” she says. “ _ I also wanted to know if you were in town yet. _ ”

“I am. I pulled in a little bit ago and stopped to get something to eat,” James replies. Penny makes a happy noise.

“ _ Did you stop at The Nest? _ ” she asks. “ _ Did you get to meet Mr. Qrow? What did you eat? _ ” and she sounds so genuinely excited for him that James can’t help a soft laugh.

“I did, and I did,” he says. “I got what he said you got yesterday.”

“ _ Did you like it _ ?” Penny asks, and then clearly muffles a yawn behind her hand.

“I enjoyed it very much,” he tells her, smiling gently. “Get to bed, Penny. I’ll come pick you up in the morning--unless you’d rather stay with Ruby another day. I wouldn’t mind.”

“ _ I would like to _ ,” Penny replies. “ _ But I miss you very much, and I would like to see our new apartment _ .”

“All right. I’ll pick you up at ten,” James says, knowing Penny would prefer having an exact time he was coming to get her rather than the ballpark of  _ tomorrow morning _ . “Goodnight Penny.”

“ _ Goodnight, Father, _ ” she replies. “ _ See you in the morning _ !”


End file.
